10. During the last few days the cold had sensibly increased, and we therefore determined to sleep during the day, and to walk during the night. Our march in the night of April 18 was a memorable one to us. We were trudging along in the face of a strong south-wester—which was extremely distressing to our highly sensitive frozen noses—and striving to protect the soles of our feet by the rapidity of our movement from being frost-bitten. After succeeding to a certain extent in this, we began to find the snow very deep, and so soft that we sank in at every step. This grew worse and worse; water rose in the deeper layers of snow and penetrated our boots, and as this could not be explained by the state of the temperature, we had to step with distrust and hesitation, in constant fear of unseen depths. At first we believed that the water arose from streams flowing from underneath the glaciers, or from the movement of these glaciers breaking up the surface of the ice. Hence we kept at a distance from their terminal walls. But that the ice-sheet of the sea itself had broken up, that unseen fissures surrounded us, and that the water under the snow was nothing but the water of the sea forcing its way in—of this we had not the least conception, till the sudden immersion of the leader of the party left no doubt about the matter. Once Haller would have utterly disappeared unless he had been quickly rescued. As we picked our way along, even with a long pole we found every now and then no bottom. Klotz now took the lead with a long “alpenstock,” guiding us with the greatest dexterity among these fissures, though often himself falling in. Greatly did we rejoice when we reached unbroken footing. Some of the party on this occasion were frost-bitten in the feet, but we could do little more for them than rub their feet with snow and improve as we could their foot-covering. The sun was now visible at midnight, and the mountains of Markham Sound were tinged with rosy light. [Illustration: BREAKING IN.]